Joe sat in his classroom at Bayview Heights High School and smiled over at John Battaglia. He’d spent a lot of time with his friend in the two weeks before the beginning of the school year, something he’d vowed to do after John was badly hurt last summer. “This place bring back memories?” he asked.
Because he was making some changes in his lifestyle, John was relaxed as he slouched in a student desk. “Yeah.” He gestured to his surroundings. “It suits you, though.”
“The room?”
“And the desk. Mr. Taylor, English prof.”
Glancing out the wide bank of windows that took up one wall, Joe let the sunshine and warm air wash over him. “I can’t believe how much I like this job. A lot more than journalism.”
“As I said before, it’s in your genes. Cassie’s here today, right?”
At-Risk teacher Cassie Smith-Lansing had practically adopted John when he and Joe were students at Bayview. She also had a special relationship with Joe’s dad, Seth, who’d been her teacher many years ago.
“The whole staff is here today. The English Department has a meeting in about twenty minutes, then our principal is giving the staff the rest of the day to work together or get classrooms ready.”
John slid out of the desk. “I’m going to try to catch her before then.”
“Thanks for driving out here for breakfast.”
After Johnny left, Joe scanned the room. Like Cassie, he’d made the space welcoming. Like Cassie, he lined the top of each wall with motivating posters. Below were blank bulletin boards. Soon they’d be filled with student work. Joe knew they rarely looked at fancy teacher-generated displays, so he didn’t bother with them anymore. The desks, now in rows, would be in small and large circles for some lessons. He’d also make sure the blinds were up and the windows open, if possible, to give the space a bright, comfortable atmosphere.
“Hello.” A woman had come to the door and spoke to him. She pushed back the deep auburn hair which fell past her shoulders. “I’m Juliet Mason. I don’t know where the English teachers are meeting. I left the email I received at home.”
He stood and crossed to her. “Joe Taylor.” They shook hands.
“Seth’s son?”
“Yep.”
She cocked her head. “Do you hate that’s the first thing people ask you?”
“Nah. My dad’s my hero. I’m proud to be his kid.”
“You’re new.”
“Three years now. I got tenure in June.”
“Hmm. I gave up mine when I quit teaching to raise my baby.”
“Well worth it, I’d guess. I have a son. He’s five.”
Her lips turned up at the edges. “I have a girl. Be careful or I’ll be dragging out the pictures.”
“Only if I can show you mine.”
She gave him a generous smile.
“I’m headed over to the meeting now, so I can show you the way.” Joe closed and locked the door. Standing next to her, he gauged her height to be about five eight. Her hazel eyes had specks of green in them, accented by the subtle makeup she wore. As they walked down the corridor, her stride was quick, and they arrived in short order at another classroom.
“Steel yourself,” he whispered.
“I already have. I taught with many of these people before, remember? Besides, Cassie will watch out for me.”
“You like Cassie?”
“I idolize her. And her friend, Zoe Caufield.” A health teacher. “Zoe still uses her maiden name, right?”
“Yes, because Cass goes by Lansing now. And if you’re their friend, then you gotta be okay.” He surveyed the room from the entrance. Ten teachers sat in a circle. “There’s only one seat next to her. Take it.”
Cassie rose and flung herself at Juliet. “Oh, my God, it’s so good to see you.” Her hug was long and Joe noticed Juliet held on tight.
“I feel the same, Cass.”
Stepping back, Cassie gave Joe a smile. “Hi, kid.”
“Please, not here. I’m Mr. Taylor.” He focused on Juliet. “Nice meeting you.” He took a seat on the other side of the room, next to Lila Parker. They’d dated a few times.
She gave him a friendly nod. “Hey Joe.”
He’d dated the second year teacher in the spring, but he hadn’t called her all summer. Had he said he would? “Hey, Lila.”
The department chair looked up from his notes. “Good morning, everyone.”
Joe liked Don Walton. He’d been at Bayview for twenty years and was a fair leader. Joe added a greeting to the others.
“First off, I’d like to welcome Juliet Mason. She’s familiar to about two-thirds of you. Juliet, glad to have you in the department again.”
“Thanks, Don. I’m happy to be back.”
“In deference to you, we’ll go around the circle, have you introduce yourselves, give a bit of your background, and a few lines about your philosophy on teaching.”
Marcus Thomas grumbled, “Seriously? That’s a waste of time. I’d rather be working in my classroom.”
Elias Grant, another curmudgeon, added, “I fully agree.”
“You’ll be able to do that later this morning and during the afternoon.” Don took a bead on Marcus. “Why don’t you start?”
He gave his name. “I’ve been here for more than three decades. I believe an English teacher’s job is to deliver material to students, and it should be memorized. By the end of the year, my seniors—who are the only students I’ll teach—will be able to recite ten Shakespearean soliloquies.”
Joe saw Juliet scribble on the agenda.
Other staff gave their names and their theories on teaching. Lila, next to him, said, “I’m still forming my philosophy on education. This year, I’m concentrating on developing skills like grammar, spelling and vocabulary in a creative way.”
Teasing murmurs from most of them.
“Good luck with that.”
“Tell us when you find out.”
His turn. “Hey, everybody. I’m Joe Taylor. This is my fourth year at Bayview as a teacher, but I attended school here, too. I was a journalist for eight years, then went back to get my degree in education. I teach a journalism elective and tenth and twelfth grades.”
When Juliet was up, she smiled easily at the group. “If you don’t know, I left to have a baby. She’s in kindergarten, so here I am. I’ll be teaching the humanities course to seniors, and I also have two tenth grades. I like working with both ends of the ability spectrum.” She asked Don, “May I make a few comments?”
“Sure.”
“I’m interested in sharing curriculum. Cassie and I have co-taught a unit on war in the past. Lila, I’d like to work with you on creative ways to teach skills.” She looked to Marcus. “Marcus, perhaps we can talk about why you feel memorizing soliloquies is important. And Joe, I’m interested in why you left journalism.”
The room went silent. These people knew his history, and Joe felt sorry for Juliet. “No worries, everybody. I can talk about this sanely now.” He looked directly at Juliet. Her brow had furrowed and her shoulders had gotten stiff. “My wife, Sara, was a journalist for CNCN news. She was killed while embedded with a battalion fighting Al Qaeda. I was on the home front, tending to our son and working at MSBNC. When she died, I wanted out of the profession. I came home to teach.”
The poor woman’s face paled. And were those tears in her eyes? “Oh, Joe, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, it was a tragedy.” He forced his voice to remain even. “But I’m doing better with the loss.”
Juliet sighed. She was a nice person and he’d be glad to work with her.
Except for one thing. She wore a wedding band, and he was having trouble keeping his eyes off the pretty bare legs revealed by the pink skirt she wore.
oOo
For the first time in five years, Juliet sat in her classroom. She’d come in yesterday to set up the space. Prints of famous artwork lined the wall space just beneath the ceiling. Motivating posters the students would like had been placed in their line of vision. Chairs were already in a circle for when the throng would descend tomorrow. Order was good, she knew. Order might help keep at bay the loneliness that clawed inside her stomach.
She picked up the photo of Hannah that she’d set out on her desk. She hadn’t been away from her child for a full day before, and now, knowing this would happen routinely made her hand tremble.
No one who hasn’t gone through leaving a child for the first time to go back to work can ever understand the utter desolation of it.
Her friend Kathy had told her this. The woman said that when she had her first baby, she’d cried every day for three weeks after she returned to work.
Shaking off her brief pity party, Juliet got out her calendar. On top of today’s page was “Craig to Washington” to attend some pre-session meetings on a committee he was heading up. At least he’d be absent from their house when she started school. Had he been home, his demands would be great, and she wouldn’t have enough time to prepare thoroughly. Other things would happen, too. Hannah went quiet. Nina, their nanny, tiptoed around. And Juliet became…his idea of the perfect wife.
“Knock-knock.”
She looked up from the book and saw Joe Taylor in the doorway. “Hi, Joe. How was lunch?”
“Delicious. You should have come with us.”
Cassie and Zoe had invited her out with them and Joe. Juliet had begged off.
“Too much to do.”
“I get that.” He strode inside without asking. He seemed like a genuine man, a kind one, who probably thought everybody was. His expression turned serious when he reached her. “Can I talk to you about something?”
“Sure.”
“You couldn’t have known about my circumstances. I don’t want you to feel bad that you asked about my past.”
“Thank you, Joe. And, again, I’m so, so sorry for your loss.”
Nodding, he gave her a half smile. “I’m coming out of it now, thank God. I’m moving on.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“How about you? How’s the first day back?”
Her hands fisted on her lap. “Okay.”
His gaze dropped, then lifted again. “When Brady was born, my wife took off six months, then I did. When I went back to work, I felt like I was on a different planet.”
“That’s exactly where my head is right now.”
“And you were home five years.”
“I was. They were wonderful. But I wanted to come back. I need something more in my life, and she needs me to have it.”
“Then you’re moving on, too.”
“I guess I am.” The notion cheered her up.
“What time are you leaving today?” he asked abruptly.
“The end of the regular school day. Why?”
“That’s the other reason I came to see you. I was hoping you, me and Lila could meet this afternoon about joining forces for our tenth graders.”
“What would we do?”
“Help each other with lessons and classroom management. The lowest level of students are tough nuts to crack.”
“Tell me about it. My first year of teaching, they made me cry.”
“Aw. But I bet you’ve developed strategies for dealing with them that Lila and I don’t have. This is her second go-around with them and my first. I asked for that level, though.”
“Why?”
“Teaching bright students is a joy but I want to help with the reluctant ones, too. I think I’d be good with them.”
“What a nice thing to say. Letting them know you feel that way is the first step in getting them motivated.”
“No don’t smile for a week?” The advice often given to new teachers.
“Not my style.”
“Mine, either.”
“Sure, I can meet.”
“My room? In a half hour?”
“I’ll be there.”
He started away, then turned back. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Juliet.” He blushed a bit.
How cute. “Same here. See you later, Joe.”
She thought about the man after he left. He seemed youthful and ingenuous, despite the tragedy he’d suffered. Though he was only thirty-five and Juliet had just turned forty, in experience, she felt centuries older. Which in her estimation was a shame.
oOo
They moved three chairs together and when they were settled, Joe grinned. “So, what do we know about our sophomores?”
Lila picked up her roster. “I’ve gone through my roster. I have five who were in my ninth-grade class last year.”
“Maybe you can check our lists and see if you know any of the students.” Juliet made the suggestion and handed her printout to Lila, so Joe did, too.
She scanned them. “I’ve taught four in each of yours. What do you want to know about them?”
“How slow are they?”
“Seventh-grade reading level. They started out at fifth.” She shook her head.
“What is it?” Juliet asked.
“The standardized tests the students have to take drive me crazy. Anyone evaluating the students who came out of my class would say I didn’t do anything for them because their levels are so low. In actuality, they did make progress.”
“Olivia knows,” Joe said about their principal.
“That’s important. But there has to be better ways to evaluate students.”
Joe leaned in. “I’m planning to have them write daily and do three journal entries per week. At mid-semester, I’ll review their style, use of grammar, etcetera to see if it’s better.”
“And I’m assigning the same kind of reader responses that I use in my humanities classes,” Juliet volunteered. “No multiple-choice tests for them.”
“Some of the other teachers will get on you for that,” Joe challenged her, but with gentleness.
A shrug from Juliet. “When I was at Bayview before, the more traditional staff wanted me to use vocabulary books, which I didn’t. As long as what I do works, who cares?”
“Because bucking the system creates a schism in the English department?” he suggested.
Juliet surprised him by laughing. He enjoyed seeing her like this. “From what I know, English departments around the globe are notorious for their in-fighting. We have to rise above it.”
“We can try,” Joe added.
“Hey, everyone!” In the doorway stood Olivia Wright, their principal.
“Hey, there, we were just talking about you.” Joe waved her in. He thought she was a terrific administrator, and he knew what it took to be one because of his father.
Tall, usually dressed in tailored suits and sporting a short haircut, Oliva grinned. “Oh, dear, do I want to know what you said?”
“All good. Nice to see you, Olivia.”
“You, too, Juliet. Welcome back.” She turned an affectionate gaze on Lila. “I’m expecting great things from you this year, Lila Parker.”
“Oh, geez.”
Olivia leaned against the jamb. “I like seeing teachers work together. What am I interrupting?”
“Planning for our slower tenth graders.”
“Ah, they need lots of motivation. I used to teach that level, too.”
“Seriously? Mrs. Wright, can you join us?” Lila asked.
“It’s Olivia, and yes, I can come back in ten minutes. I have one more thing to do. But I wanted to tell Joe and Juliet that I have subs for your morning classes tomorrow.”
Juliet’s brows raised. “Are you seeing your kid onto the school bus, too?”
“His first day? I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Same here.”
“We’d never ask you forgo that joy. It’s a very special event. I’m taking your class, Juliet, and Alex Ransom is coming over from the administration building to cover yours, Joe.”
“Wow, the admin is subbing?” This from Joe.
“Both of us can benefit from being in the trenches.”
“Thank you so much, Olivia.”
She gave Juliet a sideways glance. “You already miss Hannah, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“It’ll pass, though you’ll be miserable for a bit. So, I’ll be back, though it’s been a while since I taught.”
“My dad says good teachers never forget their tricks of the trade.”
“I hope so.”
When Olivia left, Lila was quiet. Then she said, “I don’t know how you can teach and raise children. I’m single and I still don’t have enough time to do everything.”
“That gets better every year, Lila,” Joe said. “I promise.”
Juliet sighed. “Let’s get back to the students. After you tell us about them, Lila, maybe we can brainstorm what worked with them last year.”
Joe gestured to them. “Two powerful women in this room and one more coming back. I’m gonna have to struggle to keep up with you.”
Rolling her eyes, Lila said to Juliet, “His students love him.”
“I’ll bet they do.”
He blushed again. “Aw, shucks!”
Again, Juliet laughed. She was going to like working with this man, very much.
oOo
Strapped in the back of the SUV, Brady gently kicked the seat in front of him. “What are the coaches’ names again?”
“Coach Eric and Coach Annie.”
“A girl and a boy, ’cause there’s girls in the class.”
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Joe thought again how much he liked being with his son. “It’s not a class, buddy. It’s a program to learn the skills and to have fun. They’re calling it Little League Basketball.”
“And it’s just for kindergartners, right, Dad?”
“Yep, because you’re special.”
During the summer, the Bayview Heights Community Recreation Program had sent fliers to residents about fall programming, and one of the activities was a non-competitive, mixed-gender basketball league. The leaders would use age-appropriate equipment to give young kids the opportunity to play the sport without fear of failure.
“I wanna get as good as you were, Dad.”
A chuckle escaped him. “That’s a nice thing to say, Brade.”
“Uncle Johnny told me you played every game and won a few with hail-something shots.”
That was true. He’d been a solid player with moments of greatness. He’d loved it. “They’re called Hail Mary shots. It’s when the end of the game is seconds away and somebody hurls the ball to the basket that has little chance of going in.”
“Holy cow!”
“Are you sad Timmy isn’t here to come with us, Brade?”
“Yeah. I miss him.” Brady’s favorite playmate had moved to another town just before school started.
“You’ll meet new friends at school and maybe here.”
They drove into the parking lot of Bay Street Elementary. Joe unbuckled Brady, and he leapt out of the car. They held hands on the walk to the door. Pretty soon, Joe knew, public displays of affection would be off-limits for a young boy who’d begin to get the lay of the land in the public schools. Meanwhile, Joe appreciated his show of affection.
Many of the participants had arrived by the time they reached the gym.
“Hi,” a woman said at the door. “I’m Coach Annie.” She squatted down. “And you are—?”
“Brady Taylor, ma’am.”
“I know your grandpa. He was a legend in the whole district.”
“I love Papa.”
“Annie,” she said to Joe.
“Joe Taylor.”
She held out her hand. “So Brady, shall we go meet the others? Joe, you can sit in the bleachers right behind the action. We’re asking parents to refrain from calling out to their children or coming onto the floor.”
“Fine by me.”
The two of them headed to the court. Joe walked down to the bleacher steps and as he began to climb, he noticed Juliet Mason sitting about five rows up. She waved to him.
He stopped. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Yes, a coincidence.”
“It is okay if I sit with you?”
“I’d like that.”
After he dropped down beside her, he asked, “How were Hannah’s first few days?”
“Better than Mom’s.”
Joe squeezed her forearm, which was bare. She wore a pretty peach top over jeans. And sandals, as it was still warm outside. He gestured to the kids. “Which one’s yours?”
“The little redhead.”
Hannah was easily identifiable. Her braided hair fell practically to her waist. She was slight, making her appear smaller than the others, though she was Brady’s height. “Was she excited about this?”
“I think so. When she went to kindergarten, she left all the friends she’d made at the preschool. She’s a bit lonely.”
They watched the group on the floor. Part of the gym had been sectioned off by rubber bumpers, the kind used for bowling alleys, stacked up on each other to be about four feet tall.
“Good thinking to have the barrier out there,” Juliet commented.
“Yeah, otherwise the coaches would be chasing balls all night.”
The whistle blew and Joe watched as the participants sat on the floor and quieted. One of the men began to explain how the two hours would unfold. Joe listened intently.
Juliet was thinking of her remark about Hannah’s loneliness. She didn’t want a repeat of what her daughter had fallen into when she was three. Juliet had taken her to see a psychologist two years ago…
Is there anything new going on in the home?
Nothing Hannah would know about.
Children pick up a lot more than their parents think.
She’s three. And she slept like the dead. Thank God.
When we played with the dollhouse, she put only the mommy doll in the home.
Her father’s a congressman. He’s up for reelection, so he’s home even less right now,
Is she shy when he’s there or when he’s not?
The former.
Does he pay much attention to her?
Actually, Doctor, he doesn’t. But I’m afraid that’s not going to change.
Didn’t he want children?
Now, that was ironic. He did. It took us a long time to conceive. The possibility of infertility was difficult for both of us…
“Juliet, look. Hannah and Brady have paired up.”
They made her smile. “He seems to be a gentle boy. Like his dad.”
“How would you know that? It’s true, but do I act like a wuss? Geez, that’s bad for my ego.”
It felt good to laugh out loud.
The night was fun. Hannah seemed more vivacious than usual. And Juliet could tell Brady helped bring that out.
At eight, when the evening ended, both of them came running over. Together.
“Mommy, did you see me make that shot?”
Into the six-foot basket. With a smaller ball. “I did, baby. How cool.”
“Brady made three. He’s awesome.”
Affection shone in his son’s big blue eyes. “My dad taught me.”
Juliet turned to Joe. “I remember now, seeing basketball trophies and plaques in the display cases at school. Some had your name on them.”
“I played. But basketball is a team sport. It doesn’t matter who scores.”
Out of the blue, a memory hit her.
Politics is not a team sport. How dare you accuse me of not working with my party?
Juliet shivered.
“Hey, you all right?”
“What? Oh, yes, of course.” She stood. “Ready to go home, sweetie?”
“Can Hannah and Mrs…?” Brady looked to Joe. “I don’t know their last name.”
“Mason.”
“Can they get ice cream with us?”
Joe ruffled Brady’s hair. “If they want to.”
“I do.” Hannah grinned. “Can we, Mom?”
Juliet pretended to consider the idea. “I guess, but only if we go to a place that has hot fudge sundaes.”
Brady’s eyes widened. “Dad’s favorite, too.”
“Then, we’re on.” This from Joe. “How about Frosty’s?”
His kindness, his ease with her daughter and his son brought a warm smile to her lips. “See you there.”
“I’m glad we met up, Juliet.”
“So am I.”
Since she’d left teaching, Juliet had very few friends and realized now how much she missed them in her life. She was glad to have struck up a friendship with Joe Taylor.
Even if Craig wouldn’t approve.